This next post is going to come in two posts. Reason one, because I wrote part one a month ago and then just gave up on it; reason two, there have been two major things that I have done this summer to “change” my life.
Something that has been on my mind recently is how good I feel. I know, I wouldn’t think that either because of my fibro diagnoses, but here I am talking about how great I feel. I keep thinking back to the summer of last year. I was trying to do the same things then, as I am doing now…maybe except the quitting smoking part. Last year was when I started to feel the first symptoms of fibro. I was running and exercising almost 5-6 days a week. I was feeling pretty good.
Until I started to notice that I had this terrible, awful pain in my legs. My legs felt swollen, it hurt to walk, and I just felt like I wanted to sit for a most of my day. My energy was zapped, I was foggy, and I just thought that it was my body getting used to running. So, I didn’t do anything until the end of September. I went to my doctor and he prescribed my Naproxen; thinking that it was similar pain to what I had a few years ago. I took it, when needed. But, nothing happened—the pain kept coming back, and seemed to be getting worse.
So, October-ish, my doctor sent me for blood tests. My sed rate was normal (frustrating), my blood sugar level was normal (apparently, my doctor thought it was diabetes. Sheesh. I would love it if doctors were a little more transparent. It was just like when I went into a patient first with a stomach bug, and my doctor gave me a pregnancy test). I didn’t know want to do. I was almost crying in his office (he’s my best friend’s uncle) because I as beside myself. There HAD to be something wrong with me.
At this point, I wasn’t working out, I was barely staying awake during the day. My spine, my legs, my head, everything was so bad. I remember coming home from class and literally just going up to my bed. I was so tired and depressed because I was so tired. I wasn’t doing anything, and yet I felt this bad. It hurt to walk, it hurt to teach, my memory was shitty, I felt like I was walking through a veil of fog every single day. Now, these things have become a lot clearer since I was diagnosed. I have the words that I needed then to explain to my doctor.
My doctor just looked at me, after I was finished with my sob story, and he said, “Stand up. I want to see something.” Um…. okay. He had me cross my arms over my chest and give myself a hug. He said, ‘How does that feel?” I thought, “This shit better be over soon, because this is terrible.” I said, “Not great.” And, he pushed….and I mean PUSHED on, what I know now to be, the trigger points for a fibro patient. He would ask me to explain how I was feeling once he pushed on the point—I had to restrain myself from yelping several times.
I had no idea what he was doing, all I knew is that I wanted him to stop. Finally, after he was finished and said, “Now, I’m not a rheumatologist, but I have seen this test done. It’s for fibromyalgia.” My head flashed to those commercials, and that one girl that I knew in college that had it. And, her life was kind of sad. So, I thought…what if my life becomes sad? I didn’t want that.
And, it hasn’t been that. I have had a love, hate relationships with fibro since November. Before fibro, my life was a constant rollercoaster of moods, or at least it seemed like it. I was up and down, I was stressed out by the tiniest thing, every small bump in the road was a major catastrophe in my life. I didn’t know what I was doing. I was rushing through everything, and I wasn’t taking the time to properly care for myself.
I definitely wasn’t eating right, I wasn’t exercising consistently. I was drinking too much, smoking too much. Just about the only thing I was doing right was praying and going to mass. But, I didn’t think that I needed to be taking care of myself. Before fibro, I didn’t think that I deserved to feel good about myself or feel healthy.
For the past 2 and a half weeks, I have been doing a lot of reflection. I have been reflecting on myself, my actions, my job; I have been taking stock of what has been helping me recently in multiple ways.
This, mostly likely, is because I took on two major “challenges” that are a complete 180 from what my life has been for the last decade or so. The first major challenge was quitting smoking—which could be considered the challenges to end all challenges. However, until I added training for a half-marathon to that list.
Let’s tackle my first challenge: quitting smoking. In one of my last blog posts, I wrote about smoking and quitting, but I relapsed for a period, but there was just one weekend when I wanted to be over it—kind of. I could get past not having nicotine, not smelling like smoke, not having my heart race. But, what I was going to miss was the actual action of smoking a cigarette. There was something “therapeutic” about taking that time. In a rational mind of a non-smoker, this doesn’t make sense—and probably even to some smokers it doesn’t make sense.
So, after attending a wedding, and realized that my life could not continue on the path that it was going—I bought a vape and prayed that this investment would work. I didn’t know what I was buying, I didn’t know if it would work, but I thought I have tried almost everything else…what the hell?
I downloaded the Smoke-Free app on my phone; which has been super helpful. I have been able to see how long it has been since my last cigarette, how much money I have saved, I am able to see pulse rate improvement, oxygen levels increasing, etc. So many positive things, and I have used this app before, with little success…but this time, it seems, that something has took. I can count on my one hand how many times I have slipped up—which, is amazing to me, because usually if I slip up, I go right back to smoking. Not this time. The cool thing about this is that you can track the cigarette you have, if you have them. Which, I have done, but only when I have been drinking. I haven’t smoked regularly or consistently, in 1 month, 6 days, and 23 hours.
The major things that I have noticed have obviously been my breathing, sleeping, and my energy levels. I didn’t realize how much my breathing suffered while I was smoking (yes, I am very, very good at lying to myself). I have more stamina, and I noticed that I wasn’t as out of shape as I was (when I ran The Color Run), but it was the cigarettes that were effecting my breathing (No shit, right?). My sleep is so much better—which has been huge for me.
I love sleeping; it is probably my favorite thing in the world. My mother always told me that I was such a good sleeper when I was a baby, and I don’t think much has changed. I sleep like a rock—it takes so much to wake me up in the morning, I have to set several alarms, have looked into getting a vibrating alarm clock, I have slept through earthquakes (seriously), and I love my bed.
But, since my diagnoses of fibro—my sleep patterns have been sporadic. When I first started seeing my rheumatologist he prescribed Flexaril because I was having trouble sleeping. It was hard to fall asleep, stay asleep, and then get up in the morning. So, taking that has helped, but I didn’t realize how much not smoking was going to help, as well. I wake up more refreshed than ever, and I think I have more energy in the day. And, I always smoked a cigarette because I thought I needed more energy. Smoking is a good liar. Of course, my energy levels are being compounded with the sleep that I am getting—awesome; I don’t know if it is because I am not at school and seem to be more relaxed, or I am just adjusting to this new life, but I feel SO much better.